


A Jump into Boosh

by falsepremise



Category: Monty Python's Flying Circus, The Mighty Boosh (TV), Thursday Next - Jasper Fforde
Genre: As long as you've seen the Boosh you'll get it though, British Comedy, Comedy, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Metafiction, Mighty Boosh fanfic with inspirations from Thursday Next and Monty Python, fiction jumping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsepremise/pseuds/falsepremise
Summary: Vince has been arrested by The Protectors of Visual Moving Media for adding an unscripted kissing scene into the Party Episode, permanently changing the episode for all time. Naboolio and Mr Gumby, Agents of Comedy Mad-Cap division enlist help from Saturday Week, a real-worlder who can literally jump into fiction. Can they save Vince? Discover why the relationship between Vince and Howard is at the heart of the Boosh and where all that fanfic comes from.





	1. Prolog

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Mighty Boosh/Thursday Next/Monty Python crossover. However, if you're familiar with the Boosh and nothing else it'll still make sense. Basically, there are some appearances from Monty Python characters and the basic premise is inspired by the Thursday Next series (though no character from that series appears). This fic was originally posted on fanfiction.net and I've only just realised I never posted it here when I moved to AO3. It is all written and I'll be updating regularly to get it up here.

After freezing for just a moment in the middle of their last almighty jump, a very strange sensation indeed, Howard and Vince collapsed onto the jumping castle in a fit of giggles. They could feel the spotlight of the audience drifting away and the power of the Script unravel around them. They lay on the jumping castle floor for a moment just enjoying the bitter-sweet sensation of the audience’s departure. Bitter, because they enjoyed what they did and sweet because their work was done and they could just be themselves for awhile. Howard sat up slightly, leaning on his elbow and smiled across at Vince. He thought, as he usually did when he first saw Vince after the audience’s departure about how beautiful he was and how amazing it was that Vince was his. Then he remembered what Vince had done with the audience present, “You really pushed it this time, little man.”

Vince grinned flirtatiously and flicked his fringe out of his eyes, “Oh, what? It was just a kiss. We kiss all the time. We do a lot more than kiss.”

Howard flushed slightly, “Yes but not when the spotlight is on us…That kiss wasn’t in the Script. You know that.”

Vince shrugged, “We don’t always follow the Script exactly. Sometimes I ad-lib. Sometimes you make mistakes.”

Howard grinned back, “Snogging me is some mistake, little man.”

Vince laughed, “Not a mistake at all. I said sometimes you make mistakes. I carefully bend the Script to my will. My only mistake was stopping.”

Howard flushed again and Vince reveled in his power to make his partner blush. 

Vince continued, “They call me the Script-bender. I’ve got it all figured out. This just confirms it. I mean, so we kissed? We also pulled back to the status quo before the show ended and anyway it was funny. If something’s funny it is bound to happen at least once. That’s a rule here too you know. Anyway, it was worth it.”

Howard smiled across at his lover, “It was a nice surprise” but then Vince’s talking about rules sunk in and he felt a rising panic as he remembered that bending the Script, as Vince called it, wasn’t just difficult it was also, if you did it intentionally and changed the plotline or the overall concept of the show, illegal, “Vince, little man, you don’t think they’ll charge you do you?”

Vince threw one of his cheeky sideways grins, “Don’t be stupid, Howard. We returned to just being friends before the end of the show. I didn’t change the concept of the show. Now if I bummed you during the show- that’d get me charged for sure.”

Howard laughed, “I don’t think that’d ever end up in the Script.”

Vince smiled, “Yeah, a shame that.”

Howard leaned in to kiss Vince his panic forgotten but the voice of Naboo stopped him, “Alright, what are you two playing at?”

Vince grinned and nodded towards him casually, “Alright, Naboo.”

“No- I’m not alright you ball-bag and it is Agent Naboolio at the moment. I’m here on official business. That kiss was not in the Script.”

Vince protested, “Oh, c’mon Naboo, it won’t even make it into the actual show. It’ll probably just spawn another fanfiction or something and only perverts read them.”

Naboo shook his head, “I’ve explained it to you ballbags a hundred times. We’re held together by the power of the Script and our internal logic. Your relationship is never actually in the Script but you’ve got the internal logic on your side- it just might re-write the episode.”

Howard swallowed hard realising that his earlier panic may well have been warranted, “Wait, you mean Vince didn’t just create a fanfic or have the kiss creep into someone’s viewing of the episode but he may have actually changed the episode forever?”

Vince looked incredibly pleased with himself, “Wow- well they call me the Script-bender.”

Naboo frowned, “Vince, you ball-bag. If you’ve just created a fanfic or something I can handle this internally. It’ll just be a slap on the wrist, a very big slap mind, with something really nasty and I’ll probably get Bollo to apply the slapping with his monkey strength but if you’ve re-written the episode it’ll be out of my hands. You’ll be in deep trouble.”

Howard nodded and wrapped his arm around Vince in a protective gesture, “He’s right, little man. If you’ve re-written the episode they will charge you….god, I feel sick…The Protectors are probably already on their way…”

Suddenly two beings appeared beside Naboo. The beings were dressed entirely in black as if one large piece of black fabric was hugging perfectly their entire frame. There was nothing about their physical appearance that made them distinguishable in any way. They seemed to be of average height, of average build and could have been either gender. Right where their faces should have been they wore masks, the kind of masks worn in Greek theatre, and for all appearances it looked as if there were no faces behind them. The one with a tragedy mask stepped forward and spoke in a monotone, “We are the Protectors of Visual Moving Media. Vince Noir, you are under arrest. You are charged with wilfully creating changes in a Class 3 madcap comedy television episode that are inconsistent with the concept of the show permanently altering the episode.” 

Vince, suddenly understanding the seriousness of the situation leapt up as if he meant to run but the Protector with the comedy mask grabbed his wrist and handcuffed him. Vince sniffed slightly as they pulled him away.

“No!” screamed Howard, “Don’t take him! Little man! Naboo, do something!”

Naboo whispered to Howard, “Howard- calm yourself. He has to stand trial now you know that. You’re just making it worse for him.” Then he stepped forward to address The Protectors before they left. He showed his badge, “I’m Naboolio, Agent of Comedy, mad-cap division. I’m in charge of the entire Mighty Boosh. Where are you taking him?”


	2. Chapter 2

_I was twelve the first time it happened. I was incredibly sick with glandular fever and distracting myself from the constant aches and pains by watching Fawlty Towers episodes. One moment I was lying on my couch watching the TV and feeling sorry for myself and the next I was there. I mean, actually there, in Fawlty Towers. I was standing at reception looking straight into Basil Fawlty’s eyes. He seemed as surprised as I was. Then, characteristically he was furious, “You! You’re not in the Script! Polly! Polly!”_

_Then, just as suddenly, I wasn’t there anymore. I was back on my couch. I had no idea how I’d gone there and also no idea how I’d gotten back. But somehow I managed to jump into Fawlty Towers a few more times that week and I quickly learnt that if I avoided Basil and kept out of the way of the Script I could have plenty of fun in the backstory. Polly enjoyed sneaking me around. I think she just loved doing something that she knew Basil would disapprove of. Later, I came to believe that the whole experience was nothing but delirium. I was quite mistaken as I discovered the day that Mr Gumby knocked on my door._

**Saturday Week, autobiography**

“I’m coming!” Saturday called out as she heard the door bell ring, finishing tying back her dark brown hair as she did so. As usual bits of her side fringe fell in front of her chocolate brown eyes and she gave her fringe a quick flick before darting for the door. It wasn’t that she was expecting someone in particular. It was just that she had spent yesterday, the first day of her holidays, doing nothing but lazing about the house by herself watching daytime telly and eating. She now felt suitably relaxed and was in the mood to be social again. In fact, she had just finished getting ready to go out somewhere. She was dressed in her jeans and a pretty peasant top, her favourite ‘hopefully I’m dressed for anything I might decide to spontaneously do today’ outfit. 

She opened the door hoping that someone had remembered that today was the second day of her holidays and that there would be a friend behind it . But as she opened the door she found standing on her doorstep what could only be described as a Gumby. Yes, a Gumby. As in he wore Wellington boots, had rolled his pants up to his knees, wore a horrific knitted vest, had glasses and, the real giveaway, he had a knotted handkerchief on his head. In some strange way his face resembled all of the Pythons but if Saturday had to say who he looked like the most she’d have said Michael Palin. He looked across at Saturday, grinned widely and said in well educated tones and perfect English, “Good day, are you Saturday Week?” 

Saturday nodded, still unsure of what to make of the entire situation. He continued, “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here? I’m Mr Gumby, head of the comedy agency’s mad-cap division. May I come in and explain the situation to you?”

Saturday nodded again her brain searching desperately for an explanation but all she could come up with is one little anomaly, “Um…why aren’t you doing the voice?”

Mr Gumby smiled, “It’d be a bit off-putting in my role as head of the comedy agency’s mad-cap division now, wouldn’t it? May I come in?”

Saturday stumbled back from the door, “Um…sure.”

Mr Gumby entered Saturday’s lounge room and instead of explaining anything as he had promised walked over to Saturday’s DVD collection and began scanning it, “ah, excellent, it is just as our research indicated. Natural fiction-jumpers are very rare, Saturday, very rare. Do you know just how many people in the Real World are both natural fiction-jumpers and obsessive fans of mad-cap comedy?”

Saturday shook her head, “No. Wait, what do you mean the Real World?”

Mr Gumby ignored her question, “One. Just you. You’re a forensic psychologist too as I understand which is lucky, just the skill set we need. The comedy agency is sadly lacking in agents from the Real World and the map-cap comedies are in massive amounts of trouble right now. So that makes you rather valuable don’t you think?”

Saturday swallowed hard, still trying to get a grip on the conversation, “I guess so…but what do you mean natural fiction-jumper?”

Mr Gumby smiled, “Well, it has been awhile but you did it without training. A few times too. Polly told me.”

Saturday shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment as if to refresh her mind and clear Mr Gumby away, “No, no, no, no. That was delirium.”

Mr Gumby coughed, bringing Saturday’s attention back to him, “Is it delirium now?”

“Maybe” said Saturday defiantly. Mr Gumby laughed and Saturday frowned, “It certainly isn’t a typical presentation for Schizophrenia. Perhaps I’ve been drugged. But how? I’ve just been at home by myself…Haven’t eaten anything strange… Maybe it is a delirium. Maybe I’m sick.”

Saturday promptly left the room. 

“Where are you going?” Mr Gumby called out.

“To get a thermometer!” Saturday called back. Mr Gumby could hear the sound of Saturday rustling in her medicine cabinet. Saturday walked back into the lounge room carrying a thermometer. When she saw Mr Gumby she sighed, “Are you still here?” then placed the thermometer under her tongue. 

“Well,” said Mr Gumby undeterred, “Can I tell you why I’m here now?” 

Saturday Week nodded.

“We need your help. Vince, you know, from the Mighty Boosh is being charged with wilfully creating changes in a Class 3 madcap comedy television episode. These kind of charges rarely happen because it is just so difficult for us to deliberately go against the Script but unfortunately he had the internal logic of the show on his side and he’s just too much of a naïve simpleton to realise what he was doing. You know what I mean.” 

Mr Gumby glanced across at Saturday’s Boosh DVDs before continuing, “Anyway, it is bad timing, really bad timing. You see IF/THEN is out to get us, Inconsistency Fighters That Hate Everything Nonsensical. They’re a kind of vigilante group. They want to purge the Visual Moving Media of all inconsistencies- logical, natural or plot-line. That would pretty much mean certain death for mad-cap comedies. Unfortunately, they’ve penetrated the Protectors of the Visual Moving Media and they’re going to want to make an example of Vince. Of course, it is vital that they fail. We’ve decided to go with what they’ll least expect, an insanity defence. That’s where your forensic psychology skills will be handy. Let me introduce you to my colleague.” 

Mr Gumby glanced towards the door, “Agent Naboolio, you may enter now.” Naboo strolled into the room and nodded towards Saturday, “Alright, Saturday?” Saturday just nodded back, the thermometer was still under her tongue. 

Mr Gumby smiled, “Agent Naboolio here is one of my top agents. He’s in charge of all of the Mighty Boosh and, of course, is heavily involved in our efforts to defend Vince. If you accept he’ll show you around the Boosh universe and get you acquainted with how things work as well as get you some time with Vince. You’ll basically be working with him. Well, what do you say? Will you help us?”

Saturday pulled the thermometer out of her mouth and looked at the temperature. It was perfectly normal. Saturday sighed, “Sure, why not?”


	3. Chapter 3

_Deliberately recruiting a new agent from the Real World was one of my wilder ideas as head of the mad-cap division. Of course, we needed help with our idea of an insanity defence for Vince and Saturday could provide that help. But it was more than that. If we were going to have any hope of defeating IF/THEN we needed someone on our team who could truly think straight, could think mad as well and, importantly, who could tell the difference. I thought a real-worlder mad-cap comedy fan might provide just what we needed. Saturday Week was perfect._   
**Mr Gumby, “In Defence of Mad-Cap Comedy”**

“Saturday? Saturday!” Agent Naboolio called repeatedly. Eventually Saturday snapped out of her daze with a start, “What? Where…Where are we?”

Naboo smiled, “We’re in the Boosh universe, outside Nabootique.”

Saturday nodded, still looking dazed and read the sign above the shop out loud, “Nabootique…right, right….Nabootique.”

“The first jump can be a little disorientating. You haven’t jumped in quite awhile.” Naboo frowned as if he didn’t believe his own explanation for Saturday’s glazed look. Privately, Naboo had his doubts about recruiting a real-worlder. It wasn’t that he didn’t think a real-worlder would be a boon to the comedy agency. It was just that real-worlders took their time getting acclimatized to jumping into fiction full-stop and the mad-cap comedies were doubly disorientating. Unfortunately, for Saturday to be of any use to Vince she needed to adjust right now so that Naboo could brief her on the situation and they could get started. 

Saturday nodded and began to look around her eyes still looking slightly dazed, “Hmmm…It looks like London. How did we get to London?”

Naboo sighed and willed Saturday to adjust. Mr Gumby had been so sure that Saturday could adjust quickly if they gave her a chance and his crazier ideas often turned out to be right, “Saturday, listen to me carefully. We aren’t in London. Not real-world London anyway. We’re in the Boosh universe, outside Nabootique.”

Saturday nodded again her eyes still glazed and began to mutter to herself, “Boosh universe…like Mr Gumby said…Mr Gumby…in my lounge room….doesn’t make sense…this is just like stepping into a Monty Python skit…” and with that she began to laugh. She giggled hysterically, “like stepping into a Monty Python skit! Ha! Or stepping into the Mighty Boosh! Ha!” 

Eventually her giggles settled and she managed to catch her breath. When she did her eyes were back to normal, “Its okay, Naboo. I get it now.”

Naboo smiled relieved that it seemed that Mr Gumby was right. If Saturday truly had managed to adjust that quickly she’d be able to help Vince, “Excellent Saturday. Now first thing’s first. I need to brief you on our situation. Lets step into Nabootique and talk it through.”

 

Saturday nodded and they both entered the shop the bell over the door announcing their entrance. Bob Fossil immediately leapt up from behind the counter and walked over to Naboo, “Naboo, my little shaman! You’re back.”

“Fossil, this is Saturday Week. She’s going to help Vince out but go easy on her, huh? She’s a real-worlder.”

“Nice to meet you,” Saturday added.

Bob Fossil stared at Saturday as if mesmerized, “Wow the Real World huh? What’s that like?” Then, just as Saturday began to look like she might have an answer he cut her off, “Na. Forget about it. What do you want me to do have a party for you and all dance about at the zoo in little short shorts eating chocolate custard?” He pulled out his voice recorder and spoke into it, “note to self- dance about at the zoo in little short shorts eating chocolate custard,” then looked back towards Naboo, “Anyway, Naboolio, my buddy, the best agent of comedy around.” 

Naboo sighed, “What do you want, Fossil?”

“Well I’ve been doing law school at nights to improve myself,” Fossil explained, giving Saturday a nasty look for no reason, “so why don’t you put in a word for me with the boss guys and I can defend Vince in a real court of law?”

Naboo sighed again, “Listen Fossil, I’ll think about it.”

Fossil smiled, “Don’t think, Naboolio. Look at me. I don’t think, not at all. I just do. Like, how I’ve already got Vince’s whole defence completely worked out. Check this out.” Fossil pressed a button and suddenly the song ‘I fought the law and the law won’ was blaring all around them and Fossil began shaking his booty all over the room. After about a minute of dancing he suddenly stopped, the music stopping with him and said, “and that’s why Vince is innocent.” 

Saturday couldn’t help but have a small giggle but Naboo only frowned, “Any thoughts Saturday?”

Saturday giggled slightly as she said, “Not quite the right song I think.”

Fossil looked at Saturday and made a squealing noise like a sick baby pig then turned back to Naboo, “Please, Naboo.”

Naboo kept frowning, “Look- Fossil, I said I’d think about it and I will. Where’s Howard anyway? You’ve supposed to be keeping an eye on him?”

“I left him with the hairy hand-foot man. He said he’d take care of him.”

“You mean Bollo?” Naboo asked.

Just then Bollo strolled in from outside the shop, “Alright, Naboo?”

“No I’m not alright, Bollo, if you’re here then who’s with Howard?” Naboo replied.

Bollo pointed to Fossil, “I left him with Fossil.”

“Oh you liar, Bollo. How could you do this to me? Remember Paris?” Fossil shouted in reply tonguing the air as he did so.

“Shut-up you ball-bags.” Naboo shouted, “I don’t want Howard left alone right now. He’s a dark, paranoid nut-job as it is and who knows how Vince’s situation will unbalance the man. We’ll search the whole of Boosh to find him if we have to. But we’ll start right here with Nabootique. Now, go.”

Fossil and Bollo both scurried off into action and Naboo flicked a quick look to Saturday, “We’ll do a full briefing when we’ve found Howard, alright?”

Saturday nodded, “Sure. You don’t think Howard would harm himself do you?”

Naboo shook his head, “It’s not that. It is just they are a duo. It is like a symbiotic character relationship. This whole thing will be real tough on Howard. He might do something stupid like try to help Vince escape. We don’t want to give IF/THEN even more ammunition.”

“Makes sense” Saturday answered.

“These ballbags have got Nabootique covered let’s see if Howard is in the Zoo.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh Vince, my little man, my cream boy  
Your eyes like massive blue beckons of cream  
Your hair like a beautiful mane of cream  
Your lips like delicious slices of cream  
When we made love it was like being bathed in cream  
And sometimes it actually was that too  
But now the cream has curdled  
For you are gone…. _   
**Howard T.J. Moon, ‘The Cream has Curdled’ from “The Maverick- a Collection of Poetry”**

 

Saturday looked up again and found herself standing outside Zooniverse, “How do you do that?” she asked Naboo.

Naboo shrugged his shoulders, “I belong to the Boosh. I can come and go as I please here. You’re a natural fiction jumper yourself with some practice you should be able to move around here just fine.”

They pushed open the iron gates and walked into the zoo. The Zooniverse was eerily deserted.

“Is it always like this, so quiet?” Saturday asked as the strolled through.

“Well, without Vince we’re on in-Between-Episode time. This isn’t like a zoo in the Real World or anything. In-Between-Episodes everyone just does what they want. So sometimes there are people here and sometimes not.” Naboo answered.

Saturday nodded, “Makes sense... and the animals?”

“Only exist if they appear in episodes. Again, not like real-world animals.” Naboo answered as they strolled past Jack Cooper’s cage. 

Saturday gazed at Jack as they passed. He looked exactly as he had done on the show, that is, animatrionic. Except right now he wasn’t moving at all, “Yeah I see what you mean. Do they only move when they are on the show?”

“Well that depends. You see characters need to be well-developed enough to have a Between-Episode personality and that kind of thing. If they aren’t well-developed enough they don’t do much in Between-Episode time. Sometimes they just repeat their one line over and over.” Naboo explained.

“Hmm…not much of a life is it?” Saturday asked looking backwards at Jack sadly.

Naboo shrugged, “It’s the only one they know. Besides, sometimes even small characters get enough personality together. Recognise this place?” he added as they stopped outside a small zoo-keepers cabin. 

“It’s Howard and Vince’s cabin, isn’t it?” Saturday answered unable to keep the excitement from her voice.

Naboo nodded, “Yeah. I thought we’d start here. It seems the most likely place to find him.”

They opened the door to Howard and Vince’s cabin without knocking and sure enough they found Howard huddled on the couch. He was rocking slowly backwards and forwards clutching Vince’s zookeeper jacket and weeping. Howard looked up at them both with tear-stained and desperate eyes and whispered, “He is gone, my poor little man. What will I do?”

Naboo shook his head, “Don’t be a ball-bag, Howard. Vince needs you to be strong for him, okay?”

Howard nodded very slowly and continued to weep. He lovingly ran his hands over and over Vince’s zookeeper jacket and smiled sadly looking at the couch that he was sitting on, “You know, this is where we first made love.”

Saturday raised her eyebrows in surprise and mouthed at Naboo, “Made love?”

Naboo mouthed back, “I’ll explain later.”

Howard continued still crying, “I’d told Vince that I loved him. It was in the Script, of course, just a joke I suppose but Vince, well, he knew that I meant it and after we finished the episode…” Howard stopped speaking as his own tears choked him. 

Saturday stepped forward and sat down on the coffee table, “It must be so hard to be without him.”

Howard nodded through his tears and Saturday continued, “It must be like losing a part of yourself…”

“Yes, that’s it exactly. We’re like ying and yang…He’s my other half.” Howard spluttered through the tears.

Saturday nodded empathetically, “And what happened after the episode, Howard?”

Howard smiled, a genuine smile this time cutting through his present grief with the happiest memory of his life, “After we felt the audience leave Vince looked right into my eyes and said ‘I know you meant it, Howard. I love you too.’ Then he kissed me.” Howard laughed his crying forgotten, “So simple, really. Vince always did know me better than I know myself.”  
Saturday smiled sharing the memory, “And you know Vince better than anyone?”

Howard nodded as his tears dried up, “Oh, yes. I know everything about my little man.” Howard chuckled as he continued, “His obsession with his Nicky Clarke hair straighteners, his love of Gary Numan, the way his blue eyes light up when he’s taking the piss out of someone especially if that someone is me, the sweet little sighing noise he makes as he falls asleep. He’s so talented with fashion and hair and so bubbly and just plain happy all the time. We both joke that he is shallow but that’s not it. He sees the details in life, you know? And he cares. He cares about people and animals, he really does. He’s like liquid sunshine in the room filling everyone up.”

“Wow, he sounds pretty special.” Saturday said, smiling with Howard.

Howard nodded, “Very special.”

“And Vince needs you so much right now.” Saturday continued.

Howard’s face began to set into a determined look, “Yes. I always save him.”

Saturday nodded, “Yes you do. We’re going to need to get Vince the best defence we can and you’re a big part of that, Howard.”

Howard smiled, “Yes, of course. I’ll do anything to help.” Then his face transformed into a frown of confusion, “Who are you, anyway?”

Saturday smiled and held out her hand to shake Howard’s, “I’m Saturday Week. I really am very pleased to meet you, Howard. I’m quite a fan of you and Vince.”

“Ah” Howard nodded as if he bumped into fans all the time as he gave Saturday a firm handshake.

Naboo jumped in to explain the situation more fully, “Saturday is a real-worlder, Howard. She’s joining the comedy agency and is going to help us out with defending Vince.”

Howard smiled at Saturday, “Well, thanks. Anyone who is going to help Vince is a friend of mine. If there’s anything I can do?”

Saturday grinned, “I’m sure there will be many things you can do. Maybe for now you can just come back to Nabootique with us so Naboo can explain the whole situation to me more fully and you can have a rest.”

Howard nodded, “If it’ll help.”


	5. Chapter 5

_I was a huge fan of Howard and Vince but I never expected to meet them in person. As you know, I’m a real-worlder and I had thought that the fact that they were fictional, well, that it meant I couldn’t actually meet them or anything. I was wrong. Shaking the hand of Howard TJ Moon for the first time remains one of the highlights of my life_  
**Saturday Week, ‘In Conversation with Saturday- an Interview’ in “Mad-Cap Daily”**

“Think of it like this,” Naboo began, “What holds your world together, real-worlder?”

Saturday took a deep breath and considered this carefully. They were back at the flat above Nabootique. Howard was now safely in his room under strict instructions from Naboo to not go anywhere alone and to have a good rest. Naboo and Saturday were both sitting in the lounge. Naboo had kindly supplied Saturday with a cup of tea to drink while he provided the necessary briefing. 

“Well,” Saturday began, “the laws of physics?”

Naboo nodded, “And?”

“Um…” Saturday continued, “logic?”

Naboo nodded, “Sure, and what about people?”

Saturday frowned, “You mean why do they do what they do?”

“Sure” Naboo responded, “What determines that?”

“Well,” Saturday, “Biological factors, their unique history, conditioning….”

“And what do you suppose holds this world together?” Naboo asked gesturing all around him.

Saturday looked around and chewed her lip as she thought about it, “I guess more laws? More logic?”

Naboo nodded, “Exactly, much of fiction borrows heavily from the Real World. Many television shows, or movies or books actually assume Real World laws and logic. Or they mostly assume it and just change one or two things in a logical way.”

Saturday thought this through, “Like the world is the same as the Real World except that there is time travel or aliens?”

“Exactly,” Naboo answered, “They kind of piggy-back off the Real World and that makes them very stable. Also, any inconsistencies in a fictional world make that world less stable. In most fiction there really aren’t that many inconsistencies…not compared to here anyway. The mad-cap comedies are unique in how we are held together and the Boosh universe is a perfect example of this. We don’t piggy-back off the Real World in the same way that other fiction does. I mean sure, we do it somewhat, like right now we’re assuming gravity and a whole bunch of other Real World laws but we’ll also suddenly break a Real World law without any explanation or logic behind it. We also live with inconsistency. The mad-cap comedies teem with inconsistency and it is a part of what makes us what we are. This is why IF/THEN is such a threat to us. Whereas for most fiction inconsistencies are like a disease that makes the fiction weaker, for us inconsistencies are a part of the organism. Our inconsistencies make our world what it is but they also make it unstable and we depend on the unique laws of fiction to balance us out and keep us existing. Which brings us to the next question; what laws and logic does fiction have that the Real World does not?”

Saturday pondered this carefully, “I guess…how it is written?”

Naboo nodded, “Yes and really that’s two things, the internal logic and the Script. The Script is a powerful force here. When we are on Episode-Time we are compelled to follow the Script. That doesn’t mean that little errors don’t creep in sometimes. Like, have you ever watched a show and thought a particular line was said but when you watched it again the line was a bit different?”

Saturday nodded, “Sure.”

“Errors. It is extremely rare for the errors to actually change the media though. Usually the anomaly just creeps into a particular person’s viewing or a fan gets an idea about an alternative plot or a different ending. It is where fanfiction comes from. Now, Vince, what he did was he actually changed the episode. He permanently altered the Party Episode for all time and all viewings.”

Saturday looked fascinated, “What did he change?”

“He kissed Howard.” Naboo replied.

Saturday was confused, “The kiss scene has always been there hasn’t it?”

Naboo shook his head, “Only from a Real World perspective because now that it is changed all viewings of that episode have changed too. But, no it wasn’t in the Script.”

Saturday continued to look confused, “But then, Julian and Noel, how they wrote the show, how they acted it out how did that change?”

Naboo waved his hand about dismissively, “Forget about them. They do what we need them to do. The Boosh is born here. The Boosh lives here. The more important question is this; how did Vince do it?”

Saturday’s eyes brightened as she considered this, “Well, yes. You said that you’re all compelled to follow the Script and that although errors do creep in it is very rare for the actual episode to permanently change. So how did Vince do it?”

“He had the internal logic on his side.” Naboo answered. “The internal logic is the only force as powerful as the Script here. The internal logic and the Script both reinforce each other and the internal logic is the glue that binds us together during Between-Episode time when the Script is absent. The internal logic of the relationship between Howard and Vince is what enabled Vince to create the changes that he did.”

Saturday nodded, “And what is that?”

Naboo shook his head, “You’re a Boosh fan? Surely you’ve seen it… It bleeds into the show…all the little looks…the extras always thinking Vince is Howard’s wife…”  
“You mean their romance?” Saturday answered.

“Yes, yes.” Naboo answered, “They are lovers. But the important point is they don’t just happen to be lovers in Between-Episode time, their romance is built into the internal logic. Not explicitly, mind, but it is there and the fact that the Boosh universe is structured around their relationship means it continues to bleed out into the show and grow stronger with time…”

Saturday frowned as she considered this, “What do you mean, it isn’t there explicitly?”

“Howard and Vince must save each other. They must be so utterly devoted that they are willing to risk life and limb to rescue each other from situations that, while they may be funny to watch are actually pretty horrifying. They also must stick with each other in spite of everything. Howard and Vince must spend enormous amounts of time together doing nothing in particular and derive tremendous comfort just from being together. They also must annoy each other. Their very personalities, their likes and dislikes are made to grate on each other’s nerves. They must infuriate each other. Howard and Vince are often required by the Script to do things to each other that are downright nasty. They are also required to forgive everything… Now tell me, Saturday, in the Real World how many types of relationships are there that can inspire that much frustration, loyalty and devotion all at once?”

Saturday thought about her own life and relationships as well as the relationships of people that she’d known both personally and professionally, “Not many…maybe your child…

Naboo nodded, “Very perceptive, Saturday. You know, even that possibility leaks in to some extent, occasionally characters think that Howard is Vince’s dad.…But there’s enough information on both of their histories to make that impossible…”

Saturday continued, “And a lover.”

Naboo nodded, “And a lover, and so Howard and Vince are lovers.”

Saturday nodded, “And because that’s a part of the internal logic, because they are lovers, when Vince kissed Howard he had the internal logic on his side and the episode was re-written.”

“Exactly,” Naboo answered, “And that’s not just difficult it’s also a crime. The Protectors of Visual Moving Media have arrested Vince for this crime. This is what we need to defend Vince for.”

Saturday nodded and took a sip of her tea which had grown cold. She was feeling overwhelmed by the task before her.

Naboo grinned, “And now, I think, we are ready to meet one Vince Noir.”


	6. Chapter 6

_Interviewer: “Vince Noir, in the first few days of your imprisonment what did you miss the most?”  
Vince: “Oh, those first few days were terrible. I definitely missed my hair straighteners…my hair looked like fuzz.”   
Howard: “Oh, sure, the straighteners…”  
Vince: “I’m joking you berk, of course it was you. It was Howard, I missed Howard the most. There’s a lot to think about when it comes to hair, it’s very important. But being away from Howard is like being away from air.” _   
**Howard and Vince: An Interview, Mad-cap Daily**

Saturday, being a forensic psychologist by trade, was no stranger to visiting people in jail. Saturday was surprised how much the Prison of the Protectors looked like any other back in the Real World. But it was slightly wrong. It was more like, well, a TV set. 

Naboo explained before Saturday could even voice the question, “The Protectors make use of prisons from TV shows during Between-Episode time.” Saturday nodded and a Protector strolled into view on the other side of the long corridor. Saturday was awed at the Protector, a faceless, featureless figure dressed all in black wearing a Greek theatre style comedy mask. Naboo nodded towards the Protector as he approached and whispered to Saturday, “That’s one of the Protectors of Visual Moving Media. They’ve sensed our arrival.” 

Well, this was certainly different to a real-world jail. Saturday realised that she had been expecting the Protectors to be something more, well, human. She may need to get a better understanding of exactly how justice worked in fiction. Naboo turned to the Protector, “I’m Agent Naboolio of the Mad-Cap Comedy Division. I’m in charge of the entire Mighty Boosh. This here is Saturday Week, also an Agent of Mad-Cap Comedy and Howard Moon, Vince’s partner. We’re here to visit Vince Noir.” 

The Protector nodded and spoke in a monotone, “Follow me.”

They all followed the Protector down the long hall passing rows of empty cells, Saturday trying to take it all in and Howard looking like he was fit to burst with worry. Finally, they came to Vince’s cell right at the end. What they found in there was a terrible sight. Vince was huddled into the corner of the cell. He was wearing a standard-issue prisoner’s uniform- exactly the kind that you see on TV shows. His hair fell about his head, lank and lifeless. It looked as though he’d been deprived of his hair straighteners, his root booster, all hair products even a comb for several days. Vince was rocking back and forth rapidly muttering to himself, “Accessorise, just have to accessorise…accessorise…” 

His big blue eyes had a strange empty quality to them. Howard screamed a terrified yowl, “Vince! My little man! What have they done to you?” He rushed toward the bars, “Vince!” 

Vince stopped his rocking and turned towards Howard, “Howard? Howard!” His eyes seemed to instantly gain some of his life back after hearing Howard’s voice. He ran towards the bars and clutched onto Howard through them. “Oh Howard, I knew you’d come” For a moment he looked peaceful then a realisation dawned and he backed away quickly, “No, Howard you can’t see me like this. I look hideous. You can’t see me like this.” 

Vince returned to the corner and tried to huddle away so Howard couldn’t see him. Naboo looked squarely at the Protector and said with rage barely contained under a veneer of professionalism, “Open the door right now and let Howard in. This is now an emergency situation.” 

The Protector nodded once and opened the door, letting Howard through. Howard rushed into the room and scooped Vince up in his arms. The Protector locked the cell again, locking them both in. Vince cuddled into Howard’s chest, burying his head, as if he was trying to hide within Howard’s frame. Howard spoke soothingly to him, “There, there little man. Everything’s going to be alright. I’m here now.”

Naboo sighed in relief at the sight and spoke to Saturday, “Howard’s the best thing for him right now. He’ll sort him out.” Saturday nodded. 

Naboo turned to the Protector and his barely contained rage reappeared, “I sent a bag of Vince’s clothes and hair products. What happened to it?”

The Protector shrugged and spoke in a monotone, “It must have been misplaced.”

Naboo, “Well I suggest you find it now.”

The Protector nodded once then turned and began walking back down the corridor. Naboo followed him and so Saturday followed him too. The Protector passed rows of empty cells then a doorway suddenly appeared towards the end. The Protector walked straight through it and Naboo and Saturday followed. They appeared in a large room that looked exactly like a police station, again as police stations look in TV shows and movies. They were standing in the reception area. The Protector began to rummage behind the reception desk. As the Protector did so another two Protectors strode out from a door behind reception and Saturday got a small glimpse of a large office area filled with Protectors. These two Protectors had Greek theatre style tragedy masks and they exited the police station via another doorway, seemingly disappearing into the mist outside. Saturday correctly surmised that this must be the Protectors current headquarters, again taken from a TV show or a movie currently in Between-Episode time. 

The Protector rummaging behind the desk emerged with a large suitcase, “Here it is. It was simply misplaced.”

Naboo looked furious, “I gave strict instructions. There’s nothing simple about it. You know what you have done. The Agency of Comedy will be filing an official complaint.”

“Well, well, now you care about rules…” a drawling voice proclaimed. 

Naboo turned towards him and Saturday’s eyes followed. She could see a tall dark figure dressed in a 19th century style suit, his face covered in scars and burn marks. “Sedgwick, I might have known you and your band of IF/THEN terrorists would be involved in this.” Naboo replied.

Sedgwick laughed, “Oh you do love throwing about accusations, don’t you Agent Naboolio? I’m simply here to meet with the Protectors on a personal matter entirely unrelated to my involvement with IF/THEN and I don’t know anything about your friend.” Sedgwick pulled a sickened face when he mentioned Vince. Then he caught Saturday’s eye and approached her, “But, well, well who’s this?” 

“I’m Saturday Week.” Saturday replied holding his gaze.

“Well, well, Saturday Week…” Sedgwick continued looking her over, “There’s something about you Saturday isn’t there? You’re not one of them…. Are the mad-caps recruiting from other genres now?”

Saturday shook her heard firmly, “I’m a real-worlder, Sedgwick.”

Sedgwick’s eyes glazed with envy and desire, “A real-worlder? Why would a real-worlder want to help the mad-caps?”

“I’m a real-worlder and a mad-cap comedy fan, Sedgwick. It is an honour for me to help Vince Noir.”

Sedgwick snorted, “An honour to help that trumped up tart? The inconsistencies in his backstory alone should have gotten the whole show canned.”

“Well, there we disagree, Sedgwick.”

Sedgwick shook his head, “I can’t understand how a real-worlder can tolerate the absurdity of The Boosh.”

Saturday met his gaze, “That’s because you aren’t a real-worlder, Sedgwick.” Sedgwick looked as though he’d been slapped and Saturday continued, “If you were you’d know that the Real World is absurd. Oh, sure we have our logic and laws but we are also children of a mysterious seemingly meaningless universe desperately trying to latch onto some purpose in life. An absurdity that we can laugh at is a relief.”

Sedgwick’s eyes narrowed, “A nasty little viper you’ve recruited there Agent Naboolio.”

“Saturday is a valued new agent, yes, Sedgwick.” Naboo replied. 

“Well I mustn’t keep the Protectors waiting and I’m sure you have some nonsense to be getting on with. Goodbye.” Sedgwick muttered while strolling into the office area behind the reception.

Naboo shook his head, “Well now you’ve met Sedgwick, the leader of IF/THEN. As you can see he hates us. He’s said to be the only survivor of a movie that internally combusted due to inconsistencies.”

“Is that what the scars are from?” Saturday asked.

“If you believe his stories but I’m not sure I do. The movie has ceased to be so we have only his story on what happened” Naboo replied shrugging, “Now we need to get Vince’s stuff back to him and see how Howard’s going. I don’t think you’re going to be able to get much out of Vince today. Do you understand what they did to him?”

Saturday nodded, “I think so. They took away his ability to act in character, to do things that are written into who he is.”

Naboo smiled at Saturday’s understanding, “Exactly. All prisoners are meant to be given the maximal ability to be themselves in prison, to stay within the internal logic. To deprive Vince of that is like depriving a real-worlder of water. It is torture and if it had been done for long enough Vince would have died.”

Naboo turned back to the Protector who was shuffling paper behind the desk, “And I know you all understand that.”

The Protector monotously replied, “It was misplaced.”

Naboo snorted. “Well from now on Howard will visit daily and Vince will be allowed to wear his own clothing and to style his hair all day if he wishes. Is that clear?”

The Protector nodded. “Good,” Naboo replied picking up Vince’s suitcase, “Now take us back to Vince so he can straighten his hair and try on a dozen outfits.”


	7. Chapter 7

_“Ideas are peculiar beasts. I feel like I spend most of my time trying, unsuccessfully, to hunt down a good one. Then, every so often a brilliant one catches me.”_   
**Saturday Week, autobiography**

Saturday and Naboo found Howard still holding Vince. Vince was curled into a ball and his head was buried deep into Howard’s chest. Howard was rocking back and forth and singing crimps to him like lullabies. Vince sung along quietly, his voice mumbled by Howard’s body. The Protector again opened the door and Naboo smiled at Howard as he and Saturday joined Howard and Vince in his cell. 

“How’s he doing?” Naboo whispered his voice tainted with worry.

“He’s getting better,” Howard answered while he gently stroked Vince’s hair, “I think the crimping is helping. He’s started joining in so I think he’s more himself. The trouble is the more he becomes himself the less he wants me to see him in his current state and he just keeps trying to bury into me like a tick.”

“I don’t want you to see me like this, Howard…I’m all disgusting…” Vince’s voice murmured, muffled by Howard’s body.

Howard sighed, “You’re never disgusting to me little man, you know that. Besides, I’m not leaving you alone right now.”

“I think we have the solution, Vince” Naboo chimed in, “I have a suitcase right here with some of your favourite clothes in it and all of your hair styling stuff too. Come on out and Howard can help you get all dolled up.”

“My straighteners?” Vince answered, his voice still muffled.

“Yes- of course your straighteners. Howard can help you straighten your hair, would you like that?

“Nicky Clarke, hottest you can get?” was Vince’s muffled reply.

“Well, of course, you ballbag.” Naboo answered with affection, “I did say they were your straighteners, didn’t I? You can’t be left alone right now though, Vince. So you are going to have to let Howard help you.”

There was a pause in the muffling while Vince thought this through weighing up letting Howard glimpse him in his current disgusting state with being able to be back in his normal gorgeous state, “Okay, I’ll let Howard help me. But only Howard. Give us a couple of hours. I’m in a right state it’ll take awhile.” 

Naboo sighed, “Well alright then. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check on you, okay Vince?”

Naboo then looked at Howard, concerned, “You right with this?”  
Howard nodded, “I’ll get him back to normal. But, Naboo?” Howard added as his face set into a hard, determined frown, “I’m visiting everyday from now on. I won’t let this happen again, sir.”

Naboo smiled with pride, “I know you won’t. I’ve already told the Protectors to expect daily visits from you, no exceptions. We’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

Meanwhile, as Naboo talked to Howard, Saturday stood entranced by the sight of Vince buried into Howard’s body and being rocked slowly like a baby. She was awed by the dramatic effect that the situation had had on Vince. She was fascinated by just how much being forced to not act in character, being separated from Howard had hurt Vince. Naboo had said that it was like being separated from water. Saturday imagined for a moment just how torturous it would be to be deprived of water for days…how terrible the thirst would become. But then, what would it be like to be just a little under-watered? To be a little thirsty all the time, swimming in water and not be allowed to drink? She could feel the brilliance of an idea start to form…

“Saturday?” Naboo interrupted Saturday’s thoughts, “We’re going now.”

Saturday nodded and smiled towards Howard before following Naboo out of the cell.  
The Protector again locked Howard and Vince into the cell and Naboo turned to him. “You hear that? We’ll be back in a couple of hours. In the meantime Howard stays with Vince.”

The Protector nodded once, the mask bobbing up and down, “Yes.”

“C’mon Saturday. Mr Gumby will be wanting a report. I’ll have him meet us at Nabootique.” Naboo said and instantly they were again standing outside of Nabootique. Saturday was starting to get used to all of the fiction jumps. Naboo strolled straight into the shop and Saturday followed him. They’d just had the time to walk to the flat upstairs and put the kettle on when Mr Gumby appeared. “Alright, Gumby?” Naboo said nodding in his direction, “Cuppa tea?”   
Mr Gumby nodded back, “Yes please. That would be delightful.” 

Naboo nodded and began fetching tea cups and tea bags for all of them, “Very messy situation with Vince, Gumby. We’ll want to do a full enquiry. You should have seen Vince sitting in the cell wearing a standard issue prison outfit with unstyled hair and deprived of Howard’s company for days- he was starting to go wrong. The Protectors had some story about Vince’s clothes and hair products being misplaced. But Sedgewick was there, the ballbag. I bet he had something to do with it.”

Gumby’s voice was concerned, “Vince is alright now I hope?”

Naboo nodded, “Yeah; I left Howard with him. He’s getting him all dolled up right now. I’ll check on them later.”

Gumby nodded relieved, “Howard’s the best thing for him then. No doubt about it.” His voice then took on an angry tone, “I’ll look into it for you Naboo. You are right, it stinks of Sedgwick. I bet that’s why they insisted on no visitors for a few days too, not the supposed security risk at all. We’ll keep an eye on them from now on and be suspicious of their demands. But if Sedgwick has penetrated the Protectors that much that he’s got them engaging in torture…well….” Gumby and Naboo gave each other a knowing look and sighed, the thought apparently being just too horrific to put into words.

Gumby turned away from Naboo and smiled at Saturday, “and how are you settling in? Naboo tells me that the disorientation has passed?”

Saturday nodded, “Yes. Well I think so. I feel fine at any rate.”

“Jolly-good, jolly-good…” Gumby continued, “and Naboo has given you a briefing?”

Saturday nodded again, “Yes. We went through how things work here and what happened…” Saturday frowned thoughtfully as her idea came back to her.

Mr Gumby could tell that Saturday was struck by something. This was just what he was hoping for, that Saturday as a real-worlder would be struck by something that they’d all missed, “And?”

Saturday continued to frown, “And…well it must be hard for them, mustn’t it? Seeing just how horrific it was for Vince to have his character stripped away, to have no way of acting in sync with the internal logic…that’s what keeps you all together….”

Gumby nodded. He had no idea what Saturday was trying to say but he could sense her mind was circling something important and didn’t want to interrupt the stream of thought.  
“But then, Vince and Howard kind of do that all the time, in the show. To keep to the Script they must fight their own internal logic…that must be chipping away at them, hurting a little all the time. The need to keep to the internal logic growing stronger and stronger…until, one day, the inevitable happens. Vince can resist no longer and the internal logic finds a way through Vince to resolve itself with the Script and the Script is re-written…”

Gumby’s face brimmed over in delight at the sheer genius of Saturday’s idea, “Which would mean…it would mean that Vince is in the clear. It wasn’t him who re-wrote the Script at all… the internal logic did.”

Saturday nodded, “Exactly. Vince can’t be punished for kissing Howard anymore then he can be punished for straightening his hair; he must kiss Howard.”

“That’s brilliant, Saturday.” Naboo said as he passed out the cups of tea, “And we have our insanity defence.” 

Saturday smiled, “Yes, Vince isn’t responsible for his actions. That’s right, you’d said you wanted an insanity defence.”

Gumby laughed, “You see, Naboo. That is why I wanted a real-worlder. I knew you’d come through for us, Saturday!”

Gumby laughed again and sipped his tea, “We’ll go with that as the defence. Saturday, I want you to interview Vince tomorrow when he’s more himself. Gather any information you need. We’ll have you on the witness stand as an expert witness. Naboo, I’ll look into this messy torture business and see what I can dig up on Sedgwick and IF/THEN. We want to try to figure out their next move.”

Naboo nodded, “Certainly. Has the court date been set yet?”

Gumby shook his head, “No but it should be soon. I’ve filed an application for Vince to be tried in a genre-specific court.”

Gumby drained the rest of his cup, “Well, I must be off. Saturday, I want you to eat, drink and rest. You’re here for awhile and you won’t feel as great a need to do those things while you’re here but you still need to take care of yourself. You are officially off-duty until tomorrow and I want you to have gotten a good night’s sleep before then, okay? Naboo, make sure she’s eaten and in bed before you go see Vince. Make sure Vince is completely back to his usual self. If anything is wrong let me know and I’ll visit the Protectors myself.”

Saturday and Naboo nodded and Gumby faded out of Nabootique.   
“Gumby’s right” Naboo said, “You’ve got to take care of yourself while you are here. You’ll need to rest, eat and drink more than all of us. You can use Vince’s bed, I’ll put some clean sheets on it now. Help yourself to some food while I get that sorted. You heard Gumby, you have to be fed and watered before I check on Vince”

Saturday smiled, “Sure,” and began rustling around in the fridge trying to find something to eat. As soon as she started looking in the fridge she felt a wave of hunger and by the time Naboo had returned she was devouring fried eggs on toast. Naboo waited for her to finish, “Well you were hungry, we’ll make sure you have more regular meals from now on. I’ll show you Vince’s room.” Saturday followed him into a small room with a massive wardrobe overflowing with fashion, a dressing table with a massive mirror cluttered with make up and hair products and a double bed. The room was messy in a pleasant lived-in way; there were various knick-knacks and fashion bits and pieces everywhere, feather boas, capes, funky scarves… The walls had posters of Mick Jagger and Gary Numan pinned up and there were framed photos of Vince and Howard everywhere…   
Saturday laughed, “It’s very Vince.”

“Yes, well…the sheets are clean anyway. Oh and I figured you’d need more clothes so…” he gestured to a corner of the room and in that corner Saturday’s own suitcase was sitting on the floor and some of her clothes including the two suits she used for court appearances were hanging on a small standing frame beside it. “I got one of our female agents to pick it up. Hopefully that’s everything you’ll need.”

“Thanks”

“Well, have a good night’s sleep.” And with that Naboo left the room.  
The exhaustion of the day finally hit Saturday with an overwhelming thud and she collapsed on the bed and fell straight asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

_“I’m embarrassed to say that as the full force of his smile hit me I could feel my knees buckle. When you meet Vince Noir you know you are in the presence of a star and when his sunshine hits you, you start feeling like maybe you’re a star too.”_   
**Saturday Week, autobiography**

There was no doubt about it. Howard and the hair straighteners had worked their magic. Tomorrow had come and Vince was back to his usual gorgeous, sunshine kid self. His hair was styled to perfection, he was wearing his infamous mirror ball suit and as his big blue eyes fell on Saturday her heart skipped a beat. Vince grinned widely, “Hello, Saturday isn’t it? Sorry I think we sort of met yesterday but I wasn’t quite myself.”

Saturday found herself lighting up, grinning and stumbling over her words like a star-struck fan, “Vince, it..it... is such an h-honour to meet you...”

Vince nodded like her reaction was natural, expected even. From anyone else this would have come across as arrogant but not from Vince. The difference, Saturday would later muse, was that from Vince she also got the overwhelming impression that, somehow, he was equally delighted to meet her.

Saturday shook her head slightly to try to remove the stardust and remind herself to be professional. She remembered what she was about to put Vince through and that brought her down to Earth. She worried at her lower lip with her teeth, “Vince, did Howard explain who I am?”

Vince nodded enthusiastically, “A psychologist or something from the Real World?”

“Yes that’s right.” Saturday answered.

“Is it true that in the Real World it always takes ages to put on a different outfit even if it is really important to the plot that you get a new look straight away?” Vince asked curiously, tilting his head to the side.

“Err...yeah...pretty much...” Saturday replied.

“And there’s no magic?” Vince continued.

“No.”

“And no one can talk to animals?” Vince asked “Like, not even a little bit?”

“No talking to animals...” Saturday confirmed.

Vince scrunched up his nose in disgust, “Sounds horrible.”

Saturday laughed, “Yeah, well, there’s a reason why we real-worlders spend so much time escaping from it by watching the Boosh and other shows.”

“I guess...”Vince stated dreamily playing with his hair, “So, Howard says you’ve got a plan to get me out of this?”

“I hope so, Vince,” Saturday answered, “I hope so. I have an idea about your defence. But I need proof and to get the proof I need to put you through a few tests.”

“Sounds genius!” Vince cooed enthusiastically.

“I’m afraid the tests won’t be very pleasant for you...” Saturday continued worrying at her lip again.

Vince just shrugged at this, “It’s all part of life’s rich tapestry...do I get to see Howard?”

Saturday nodded, “Yes. He’s going to help us out with the main test, in fact. But we need to do some other tests first. Is it okay if I record this, Vince? So we can show it in court?”

Vince nodded, “Sure, whatever you need. I’m used to being taped you know.”

Saturday pulled out a camera and set it up on a tripod facing Vince. Vince automatically began to preen in front of it. Saturday also pulled out a stopwatch and put it around her neck as she began to explain the task, “Vince, the way these tests work is that I’m going to ask you to not do something. I want you to resist doing that thing for as long as possible. Does that make sense?”

Vince shrugged, “Sounds genius. What’s first?”

“Vince, I want you to hold your breath for as long as you can, okay? Stop breathing.”

Vince immediately obeyed and Saturday started the timer. After ten minutes of Vince holding his breath Saturday decided that that particular point was proven and it was time to move onto something else, “Okay Vince, you can keep breathing now.”

Vince laughed, “I bet you can’t do that huh, real-worlder? In this context breathing isn’t necessary to the plot you see and the plot is everything here. The genius bit, of course, is that if I’m under water suddenly I really need to breathe.”

Saturday smiled, “You’re right. I can’t do that at all. Let’s try something else then, huh?” 

Saturday approached Vince and pulled two hair elastics out of her pocket. Vince’s eyes bulged in fear, “w-what are you doing?”

“We need to do this, Vince. Remember I said that it wouldn’t be pleasant? But I’m not asking you to do anything that isn’t necessary. I need you to give this your best shot. Trust me, okay?”

Vince nodded, ‘o-okay...”

Saturday grabbed Vince’s hair and quickly tied it into two, messy, ugly bunches while Vince whimpered quietly like he was in pain. “I want you to stop yourself from fixing your hair for as long as you can, okay?” Saturday explained as she stepped away from Vince.

“Ahmmm...” Vince whimpered his consent.  
Saturday started the stopwatch .Vince was already visibly distressed, his breathing was fast and his face flushed with anxiety. He began to wring his hands and mutter, “Bunches...bunches...don’t fix...don’t fix...think of something else...” then it escalated further as he started rocking back and forth becoming less and less himself until with an almighty yelp he cried, “ah!” and ripped the elastics out of his hair. Saturday stopped the stop watch and made a note of the time... 1 minute and 20 seconds. Vince grabbed a mirror and busily preened his mane until it was back to its usual, glorious self. 

“Are you okay, Vince?” she asked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m alright now,” the sunshine kid sighed, “I see what you mean about it being unpleasant.”

Saturday nodded sadly, “I’m sorry about that. I really am. It is necessary though.”

Vince shrugged returning fully to his usual cheery self, “Howard says it’s important, so...what’s next?”

“Next, Vince, I want you to not crimp.” Saturday explained.

“O-kay...” Vince answered, clearly not certain how this was going to be a test.

“Soup, soup a tasty...” Saturday said as she clicked the stopwatch on.

Vince bit his lip, realising why this was going to be difficult.

“Soup, soup a tasty...” Saturday repeated.

Vince bit his lip harder.

“Soup, soup a tasty...”

Vince put both hands over his mouth and groaned. 

“Soup, soup a tasty...”

Vince began to rock back and forth until, once again he lost control screaming the rest of the crimp rapidly, “Soup, soup a spicy, carrot and coriander chilly chowder crouton crouton crunchy friends in a liquid broth I am gespatchio oh I am a summer soup oh miso miso fighting in the dojo miso miso oriental price in the land of soup!”

Saturday checked the timing again. 1 minute and 22 seconds.  
“Very good, Vince,” Saturday smiled, “How are you holding up?” 

Vince nodded, “Okay. Do I get to see Howard soon?”

“I’m going to go and get him right now actually. He’s going to help us out with the last test.”

Vince grinned widely at this, “Well, go on then. Get the jazz maverick.”

Saturday left Vince’s cell and went down the corridor to where Naboo and a very worried Howard were waiting.  
“How is he?” Howard asked.

“He’s doing fine. I’ve gotten a baseline. He lasts about 1 minute and 20 seconds in resisting fixing his hair and finishing a crimp. We’re ready to try the real test.”

“And what’s that, exactly?” Howard asked his brow furrowed in anxiety over Vince.

“To resist kissing you,” Saturday answered.

“I...what?” Howard replied, shocked.

“When I give the signal I need you to cuddle up to Vince and put your face close to his. Then, you wait right there. We’re going to time how long Vince can stand that without kissing you.”

Naboo frowned, “I see what you’re trying to do here, Saturday, but there’s a flaw in this plan.”

“Oh?” Saturday queried eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, how’s this ballbag meant to resist?” Naboo answered pointing at Howard.

Howard nodded, agreeing with Naboo, “Yeah I can’t possibly resist kissing Vince...I mean I’m drawn to him like...he has this power over me and I can’t...I’ve never been able to say no to...” He flushed suddenly realising that he’d said too much. 

“Ah, normally, yes that would be true. This would be just as challenging for Howard but not today. Howard will be able to resist this aspect of the internal logic because he’ll be following a deeper logic.” Saturday reasoned.

“What’s that?” asked Naboo.

“It is the only way to save him...” Howard answered, realising it for himself.

“Exactly,” Saturday replied, “And you must save Vince.”

Howard’s face set in grim determination, “Let’s do it.”

Vince’s face lit up in delight as Howard entered the room along with Saturday.  
Howard smiled gently in return, “How are you doing, little man?”

“Alright, Howard...” Vince grinned but as Howard moved naturally to step closer to Vince, Saturday stopped him. “No contact yet, Howard.”

Howard nodded, determined to see this through.

“Vince, I have one last test for you.” Saturday began to explain, “I need you to not kiss Howard. In fact, don’t do anything to increase your contact with him. Don’t even talk to him. I need you to try the best you can to not kiss him for as long as you can, okay?”

Vince sighed, disappointed, “Alright.”

Saturday nodded, “Now, Howard, as we discussed.”

Howard approached Vince and sat beside him. He swept an arm around Vince and leant in close, making sure that his face was close to Vince’s but just short of kissing distance. Vince would have to close the gap between their lips. Saturday started the stopwatch and Vince immediately let out a low moan. Vince’s breathing was quick and ragged and his face flushed. At first Saturday found it difficult to tell if it was the same distress as before or simply arousal or perhaps a bit of both. But then Vince’s face scrunched up as if he was in pain and he began to rock back and forth. Howard, knowing he had to last this out for Vince’s own good remained calm and composed. Vince started biting at his lip and whimpering before moaning, “I love you, Howard” and snogging Howard’s mouth with relish. 

Saturday looked at the time and smiled. 56 seconds. He hadn’t even lasted a minute. He could resist fixing his hair longer than he could resist Howard. It was a part of the internal logic after all.


	9. Chapter 9

_“Was I watching? Of course I was watching. Holy Zarquon’s singing fish, it was the biggest news sensation since I stole the Heart of Gold! We all knew that it was really about IF/THEN...that the future of comedy was on the line...You see, what Sedgewick and his cronies don’t get is that here absurdity is our friend...we’ve taken a disease and made it into our slave...that’s why we’re all such hoopy froods and everyone else is a pack of losers.”_   
**Zaphod Beeblebrox from the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, The Comedy Report**

 

It was normal for Saturday to get a rush of nerves before appearing in court but today she felt like she was getting a tsunami of them. She couldn’t eat her breakfast, barely managing to keep down a cup of tea. Naboo had explained that they were appearing in a genre-specific court, the courtroom used within Monty Python’s Flying Circus episodes to be exact. Saturday wasn’t entirely sure how that would affect the court proceedings. It seemed to her that they were about to play a game that it was vital to win but the game didn’t have any rules. Naboo had assured her that a genre-specific court would be more sympathetic to Vince’s case and Saturday believed him. It just rattled her as the main expert witness to think she really was about to give evidence in a Python court. 

“Alright, Saturday?” Naboo asked, walking into the living room where Saturday was trying to finish her tea without panicking and Howard was staring into oblivion with a dazed look in his eyes. Saturday nodded and Naboo smiled back.

“Alright, Howard?” Naboo asked looking across to the jazz maverick.

“Huh? What?” Howard replied, awoken from his ruminations.

“Howard, it is going to be okay. We’ve got a great defence, alright?” Naboo said gently. Howard nodded, his face setting into grim determination. 

“Well lets go then. Bollo!” Naboo called. Bollo appeared beside him carrying a briefcase.   
“You’ve got the briefcase with case notes in it don’t you, Bollo?” Naboo asked.

“Ah, yeah, right here.” Bollo replied adding, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this...”

Howard gulped in fear and Naboo sighed in frustration, “Bollo what did I say this morning? Shut it would you?”

Bollo looked down sorrowfully and Naboo experienced a moment of remorse, “Listen, Bollo, I know you find that line irresistible but let’s make that the only time we here it today, okay? It’s the last thing Howard needs to hear right now.”

Bollo frowned and nodded. The four of them kept quiet as Naboo transported them all to the court.

It appeared like a normal, serious British courtroom, complete with twelve jurors. According to Naboo the twelve jurors were all fictional characters drawn randomly from madcap comedies, a “jury of his peers”. Saturday squinted at them. She recognised a couple of pepperpots from Monty Python, two of the Goodies and a strange alien creature that she thought could have been a Vogon from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Naboo took his place beside Mr Gumby as Vince’s defence team. Saturday sat with Howard to watch the proceedings until she was called as an expert witness. The prosecutor turned out to be Sedgewick himself a revelation that created a stir through-out the defence team and supporters as he walked in. Howard flinched as the Protectors escourted Vince himself into the room but Vince himself seemed to be in high spirits or at least putting on a brave face. His hair was styled to perfection and his outfit was a stunning mix of blue and silver sequins. Vince sat back in the defendant’s chair, relaxed and gave Howard a wink. Saturday could feel Howard’s tight posture soften slightly beside her. She leant across and whispered to Howard, “Nothing rattles him does it?” 

Howard grinned proudly keeping his eyes glued to Vince, “Only the thought that his hair might be out of place...”

The judge, looking alarmingly like John Cleese, entered and a hushed silence descended on the courtroom while everyone stood and waited for him to take his place. As the judge sat he carefully glared around the courtroom looking very serious indeed. He ended by fixing his gaze directly at Vince who stared calmly back.

The judge coughed, “You are Vince Noir of the Mighty Boosh?”

“I am” Vince answered.

“You are charged with wilfully creating changes in a Class 3 madcap comedy television episode that are inconsistent with the concept of the show permanently altering the episode, namely, that you did wilfully and knowingly ah...kiss Howard Moon with full awareness that this act is not in the Script. How do you plead?” 

“Oh, I snogged him alright.” Vince confidently announced to a titillated courtroom.

Naboo rose and clarified, “The defendant pleads not guilty by reason of insanity.”

The judged nodded and laughed rubbing his hands together, “An insanity defence? Excellent, my personal favourite. Well, this should be fun. Prosecution, make your case.”

Sedgewick stood slowly, his face contorted with contempt, “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury...this case is really very simple. It is about upholding the integrity of the Script. Vince Noir has himself admitted that he kissed Howard Moon, knowing that such an action was not in the Script. We must take a firm stance. There is no room for compromise. If we do not faithfully preserve the integrity of the Script our very world could unravel. In order to fully establish the facts of this case I’d like to call forward my one and only witness, the Head Shaman from the Mighty Boosh, Dennis.”

The Head Shaman stepped forward nervously, clearly not happy to be called forth as a witness for the prosecution. He sat in the witness booth and nervously glanced at Vince in an apologetic way.   
Sedgewick coughed loudly and began his questioning, “You are, Dennis, the Head Shaman from the Mighty Boosh?”

Dennis nodded and sighed regretfully, “I am”

“You appeared in the episode in question and witnessed the incident in question?”

“I did.”

“I see, and when you followed Vince Noir to the roof and confronted him about your belief that he was having an affair with your wife what did he say?” 

The Head Shaman sighed again and answered, “He said that he was in love with someone already.”

“I see and was that in the Script?”

Dennis nodded, “Yes.”

“And how did you respond to this?”

The Head Shaman frowned, “I asked him to prove it.”

“And was that in the Script?”

“Yes”

“And what did Vince Noir do?”

Dennis glanced sadly at Vince and then at Naboo before answering quietly, “He kissed Howard.”

“Please repeat that louder, for the court to hear,” Sedgewick ordered.

The Head Shaman sighed and repeated, “He kissed Howard.”

“And was that in the Script?”

The Head Shaman shook his head, “No.”

“What was in the Script, Dennis?”

“He was supposed to challenge me and to fall off the roof doing so.” The Head Shaman repeated in a monotone, clearly disappointed to be compelled to reveal these facts, “I’d understand this as a victory to me and leave but in fact he would bounce back on the bouncing castle. Then, I believe Howard would make a comment about Vince finally remembering to give him a birthday present.”

“Thank-you, Head Shaman,” Sedgewick answered, turning to the jury, “And so you see ladies and gentlemen it is an open and shut case. The question is, did Vince Noir knowingly violate the Script? The answer is a clear yes. He is guilty. The prosecution rests.”

The Judge frowned and yawned, “A straight forward case if ever I’ve heard one. What a shame. Defence?” 

Naboo stood carefully and cleared his throat, “Thank-you, Dennis. You summarised the incident nicely. The facts of the incident itself are clear and are not in dispute. Vince kissed Howard. The kiss was not in the Script. We intend to establish that Vince was not in control of his own actions. Dennis, I’d like to question you further about the relationship of Vince and Howard not just in the Party episode but throughout the show. Tell me, how do extras, characters present for one episode only, and recurring minor characters such as yourself, commonly perceive Vince’s relationship to Howard?”

“Objection!” yelled Sedgewick while getting to his feet “How is this relevant?”

Naboo sighed, “It is integral to establishing the insanity defence your honour.”

The judge banged his gravel, “I quite agree. Sit down and shut up Sedgewick. This is just getting interesting.”

Sedgewick frowned and muttered under his breath but he sat down.  
Naboo repeated his question, “So, how do extras commonly perceive Vince’s relationship to Howard?”

“Well usually,” the Head Shaman said carefully licking his lips, “usually, they think Vince is Howard’s wife.”

Naboo nodded, “And that is in the Script?”

“Yes, frequently,” Dennis answered.

The judge frowned thoughtfully and the jurors began to look interested. 

“Thank-you, Dennis that is all.” Naboo said to the Head Shaman. He then turned to the judge he continued with, “I call forward my first witness, Dixon Bainbridge.”

The Head Shaman stepped out of the witness box and Dixon Bainbridge confidently strode in, the power of his awesome ego filling the room.  
Naboo began his questioning, “You are Dixon Bainbridge of the Mighty Boosh?”

“Indeed, I am,” Dixon announced with pride.

“Dixon Bainbridge, when you found Vince and Howard tied up in the Artic Tundra after a failed attempt to seize the egg of Mantombi I believe you overheard a conversation they were having?”

“That’s right,” Dixon replied.

“And this conversation, it was in the Script?”

“Yes every mind numbing word of it.”

“Could you repeat for us what they were saying?” Naboo continued as the Judge and jurors seemed to lean forward, fascinated. 

“Objection!” cried Sedgewick again, “Really your honour, how is this relevant? Whether or not they followed the Script in the Tundra episode is irrelevant to this case.”

“Sedgewick!” the judge yelled, “This is my courtroom. I want to hear what they said and I believe the jury wants to hear what they said. Do you, jury?”

The members of the jury nodded furiously, “Good. We’re just getting to the juicy bits after all. Now shut up and I won’t tell you again.”

Sedgewick shook his head, sighed and sat back down.   
“Right,” the judge continued, “Go on, man, get to the juicy stuff”

Dixon Bainbridge cleared his throat and announced dramatically, “they said that they loved each other.”

“I see” Naboo answered over excited noises of the jury and the judge, “Bainbridge to be completely clear are you saying that Howard told Vince that he loved him?”

“Yes”

“He used those exact words.”

“Those exact words.”

“And Vince told Howard that he loved him?”

“Yes. Those exact words.”

“Dixon Bainbridge,” Naboo paused dramatically waiting for the judge and jury to settled down, “to be completely clear, were those exact words in the Script?”

Dixon smiled, “Yes”

Again the courtroom erupted in a flurry of excitement. Naboo paused again, “Bainbridge, what did you make of that?”

“Make of it?” Bainbridge asked.

“What did you think it meant?” Naboo clarified.

“Well, I assumed it meant that they loved each other,” Dixon replied, “What else could it mean?”

Naboo smiled, “What else indeed? I have one final question for you, Bainbridge. Did the conversation surprise you?”

Bainbridge snorted contemptuously, “Of course not. I’ve always known that Howard was bumming Vince. He’s practically his wife.”

Naboo grinned and as courtroom erupted excitedly “Thank-you Bainbridge that will be all.” 

 

Naboo turned to the judge, “May I call my third and final witness, your honour?”   
The judge nodded and Naboo continued, “I call Saturday Week.”  
Saturday stepped forward nervously made her way to the witness stand.  
Naboo smiled at her, “You are Saturday Week from the Real World?”

Saturday cleared her throat nervously, nodded and said, “Yes I am” over the excited whispers, of “Real World”, “a Real Worlder” that filled the courtroom.  
Naboo paused to give time for the courtroom to settle back down. When the courtroom didn’t the judge banged his gavel, “Alright, alright. I do realise many of you have never seen a Real Worlder before but let’s try to contain our excitement enough to hear her testimony please.”

“And what is your profession in the Real World?” Naboo asked.

“I’m a forensic psychologist.” Saturday answered.

Naboo nodded, “You are also an avid fan of the madcap comedies, including the Mighty Boosh, are you not?”

“Objection!” Sedgewick called out, “That’s obvious bias! If she’s a fan then we can’t trust her testimony at all.”

“Overruled,” the judge replied, “It merely establishes her expertise.”

“Your Honour,” Sedgewick continued forcefully standing, “I must object…”

“You, Sir, have already done so!” the judge yelled back. “This is my courtroom! Mine! Everyone, stand up…”  
The entire courtroom stood to attention as one.  
“Sit down…”  
The courtroom sat as one.  
“Say ‘boo’”  
“Boo!”  
“If I want you to give your evidence in the form of charades you’ll do it, if I want you to dance the can-can you’ll do it and if I want to hear the testimony of the first Real Worlder I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet I’ll hear it without interruption. Do you understand?”

Sedgewick sat back down muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “bloody crazies” under his breath. 

“Right” the judged nodded, “And that goes for the lot of you. Now, please continue Saturday.”

Saturday nodded swallowing hard, feeling even more nervous, “Ah, yes, yes I am a madcap comedy fan. A huge Mighty Boosh fan in fact.”

“Good,” Naboo continued, “And you used your considerable expertise, in the areas of forensic psychology as well as madcap comedies, coupled with your unique perspective as a Real Worlder to apply yourself to this case?”

“That’s right,” Saturday answered.

“And can you summarise your conclusion?”

Saturday smiled, “Certainly. Shows aren’t just held together by the Script alone, they are also held together by the internal logic. I think it is clear from the testimony of Dennis and Dixon that a romantic relationship between Howard and Vince is part of the internal logic of the Mighty Boosh. I personally, saw the effects on Vince of being unable to follow his own internal logic. Naboo explained to me that this is torture for a fictional person, similar to being deprived of food, water or air for a Real Worlder. So, what must it be like, I wondered, for Vince and Howard, living with an internal logic that said so clearly that they are in love and a Script that constantly implies love but always just shies away of declaring it? You cannot put a starving man at a banquet and expect them not to eat…Yes, Vince kissed Howard. Vince was always going to kiss Howard eventually. In a very real way it wasn’t Vince. Vince was following a deeper truth than the Script. He was following the internal logic, as he must.”

Naboo nodded, “And do you have any proof of this Saturday?”

“Yes, I performed a little experiment. I established that Vince was able to last a little over a minute consciously flouting his character’s internal logic. When I asked Vince to resist the urge to kiss Howard he couldn’t even last a minute. More than that, he showed exactly the same symptoms, perspiration, flushing, rocking back and forth. He seemed to be in pain.”

“Let’s view it for ourselves, shall we?” Naboo smiled and pressed a button. A screen unfolded in the middle of the courtroom and Saturday could see the image of Vince projected onto the screen. Naboo pressed play and Saturday saw herself tying Vince’s hair into messy bunches, “Saturday, what’s happening here?”

“This is one of the baseline conditions to establish Vince’s reaction to consciously flouting his own internal logic” Saturday replied. The video continued and the courtroom saw the image of Vince become increasingly anxious. “You’ll notice,” Saturday continued, “How quickly he becomes anxious. He is breathing rapidly, rocking backwards and forwards, wringing his hands until eventually he can resist no more and…” Saturday paused and the image of Vince exclaimed and pulled the hair ties from his hair. 

“I see,” Naboo nodded. The courtroom had become silent and serious. The scenes that they were watching were, after all, for fictional characters scenes of controlled horror. “And now the real test” 

The image changed and Saturday saw the image of Howard enter the room and sit close to Vince. Saturday narrated, “You’ll notice that Vince’s symptoms are exactly the same, there’s the same distress, the accelerated breathing, facial flushing, attempts to resist but eventually…” The video Vince kisses Howard with a cry, “eventually Vince does what he must. He kisses Howard.”

Naboo nods, “Thank-you, Saturday. That is the perfect summary of our defence. Yes, Vince Noir kissed Howard Moon in the Party episode. Yes, the act wasn’t in the Script. But Vince was following something more important. He was following the internal logic. Vince kissed Howard because Vince must kiss Howard. The defence rests”.


	10. Chapter 10

_Howard: “Waiting for the verdict…that was just dreadful. The worst bit was that I knew we’d done our best. What if our best wasn’t enough? Then what?”  
Interviewer: “Then Vince wouldn’t be coming home…”  
Howard: “Don’t even say it. There is no home without my little man.”_   
**Howard and Vince: An Interview, Mad-cap Daily**

 

Saturday nervously chewed on her fingernails and watched Howard pace back and forth. She’d long ago learnt not to second guess juries but a jury of fictional characters drawn randomly from the madcap comedies? Who could know how they would react. Lost in thought she didn’t even notice that Naboo had returned until he spoke, “They’re calling us back. We have a verdict.” 

“They can’t do it!” Howard whimpered, “They can’t take my little man away.”

“Howard,” Mr Gumby said kindly patting his back, “C’mon pull yourself together. We’ll go in and hear the verdict and we’ll take it from there, okay?

Howard nodded meekly. Vince’s main support team, Naboo, Mr Gumby, Saturday, Bollo and, of course, Howard all went into the courtroom together. 

Sedgewick glared at them contemptuously as they entered the courtroom. Vince, sitting calmly in the dock smiled reassuringly at Howard. The judge, still looking disturbingly like John Cleese, managed to silly walk his way into the courtroom in a manner that only added to the already tense atmosphere. He sat, banged his gavel for quiet and announced, “Jury, I believe you have a verdict?”

The juror whom Saturday recognised as Tim from the Goodies stood, “Yes we do.”  
“Well?”

“Oh…err…guilty…”

Saturday felt like her guts had been ripped out but then he continued…  
“no wait! What’s the other one? The one that means he just goes home and we all forget all about it?”

The judge sighed, “Not guilty?”

“Yes, that’s it. Not guilty.”

“Are you sure?”

Tim looked around at the other jurors who were all nodding vigorously, “ah, yes. We’re quite sure, yes.”

The judge banged his gavel, “Well there we are. Vince Noir you are found not guilty by reason of insanity. You are free to return to the Mighty Boosh and snog Howard Moon as much as you like whether or not it is in the Script.”

Saturday breathed a sigh of relief. She began to laugh. 

“No!” Sedgewick howled his anguish and fury cutting through the celebratory cheers, “No! You are sodding well not. You bloody crazies think you can do whatever you damn well like, flouting logic, ignoring laws, living with ludicrously inconsistent backstories. Well you’re not going to ignore the Script…that’s going too damn far. If I had my way I’d destroy the whole damn lot of you.”  
The entire courtroom looked furious. The pepperpots on the jury whispered to each other angrily.

“Would you really?” the judge laughed, “Well thankfully, my dear, this is my courtroom and I’ve already warned you. Sedgewick, you are in contempt of court and I sentence you to teach llamas how to knit while sitting in a bowlful of treacle. You shall not be free until they produce a small scarf…”

Instantly two beings dressed head to toe in black fabric and wearing Greek masks descended, “We are the Protectors of Visual Moving Media. You have been found in contempt of court, Sedgewick.”

“No!” cried Sedgewick as he was dragged away, “No! It doesn’t even make sense. They don’t have opposable thumbs!”

As he was pulled free of the courtroom Vince stood nervously, “Umm, so I’m free to go then?”

The judge nodded, “Yes, Vince Noir you are free to go.”

“And snog Howard Moon as much as I like?”

The judge laughed, “As you wish.”

Howard stood and strode forward to the front of the courtroom confidently. He nodded at the judge and said, “Thank-you, sir,” before lifting Vince right out of his seat, “I’m taking you home, little man.”

As he strode out of the court, Vince giggling in his arms the entire courtroom cheered.

Later that day Saturday, Naboo and Mr Gumby were back at Nabootique enjoying a cup of tea. Howard and Vince were cuddling on the couch, whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ear. Suddenly, Saturday found herself laughing so hard she nearly spluttered her tea everywhere. She managed to swallow but continued to chortle terribly. Naboo an eyebrow, “Alright, Saturday?”

Eventually Saturday managed to stop giggling, “It’s just, Sedgewick was right about one thing.”

“Oh?”

“Llamas really don’t have opposable thumbs...He’s going to be in that bowl of treacle a long time.”

Mr Gumby smiled, “Yes I expect he will be. Thanks to you…”

Saturday grinned widely at this, “It’s been fun. If I can ever help out again…”

“Oh, we’ll be in touch, certainly, Agent Saturday Week. It would probably be best to return to the Real World for now though, eh?” Mr Gumby answered.

Saturday nodded, “Yes, as much as I’ll miss you all a bit of real life would probably do me good.”

Vince and Howard detangled themselves from each other and came over to Saturday to say goodbye. Howard shook Saturday’s hand seriously, “Thank-you for helping me save my little man, Saturday. You are welcome here anytime.”

“Thanks, Howard. It has been an honour.”

“Yeah, cheers Saturday!” Vince added his face breaking into a big, sunshiney grin, “And not only did I get away with it but the judge said that I can snog Howard as much as I like. Even if it isn’t in the Script! Vince Noir, Script-bender…”

Everyone laughed as Vince flicked his fringe and grinned at Howard cheekily, “I think we could get away with a bumming next time…”

“Vince!” Naboo and Mr Gumby instantly yelled together as Howard blushed furiously.

Vince laughed hysterically, “I’m only joking. Bumming is strictly for Between-Episode time.”

Naboo and Mr Gumby both let out sighs of relief, “Well mind you remember that, Vince” Naboo said shaking his head.

“Of course,” Vince replied, leaning towards a blushing Saturday Week to explain, “if it is during Between-Episode time it’ll only spark a fanficition and that’s okay…only perverts read them.”


End file.
